


Gotham Rogue Team Up

by EndoratheWitch



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series, Harley Quinn (Comics), Suicide Squad (2016), The Joker - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Hospital Sex, Hospitals, Hostage Situations, Jarley - Freeform, Joker and Harley love each other in this story, No abuse, Robbery, murderous clowns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-07-13 22:29:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16027274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndoratheWitch/pseuds/EndoratheWitch
Summary: Joker and Harley end up in a hospital for criminals only to have some new "bad" guys show up.





	1. Bad Decisions

**Author's Note:**

> This was suppose to be a one shot but I realize it was going to take me a little longer...

With his suit and face covered in black soot, Joker stumbled out of the old beat up looking four door Oldsmobile, hacking and coughing with such intensity that his throat felt as if it were bleeding, as if sandpaper was being rubbed up and down the soft flesh. His ears were ringing and all sounds seemed muffled. He reached for the back door, catching a glimpse of his reflection in the glass. His white face was covered in nicks and deep cuts, the bright red blood mixing with the soot on his face. His glorious purple suit was ripped and burned in places, the smell of burning cloth and even flesh surrounded him like a cloud. He knew he was hurt, but he seem to be running on adrenaline or something--maybe shock--because while there was pain, it was numbed. He grinned thinking to himself he looked like a Jackson Pollock...except in blood and soot on the white canvas of his face, and his lovely purple suit was just ruined beyond saving. He tried to laugh at the situation as his hands fumbled with the door. Getting the door open was a struggle, the small effort making him breathless. The old metal groaned in protest as he reached in to grab Harley by her upper arm and haul her out of the car. She looked to be in just as bad a shape as Joker. 

Harley stumbled out of the car, nearly collapsing, her limbs working like a puppet’s when the strings had been cut. She collapsed into Joker’s waiting arms. Harley coughed, the sound harsh, her red and black costume torn and burned in places, which Joker ordinarily would have found delightfully sexy since it exposed part of her creamy flesh, but not right now. Now it just made him upset, and he hated being upset. 

She coughed hard and painfully and for a few seconds Joker wasn’t sure she was going to stop. Harley bent over with her hands on her knees for support. Joker frowned in concern and pulled her close rubbing her back. “Come on poo--cough it all up.” 

She leaned against him gasping for breath. Like Joker, she was bleeding from multiple cuts and had a few burns here and there on her pale skin. Joker’s frown deepened. 

He didn’t like to see his girl hurt hurt. It made him angry, especially when he couldn’t go out and find who hurt her and make them pay. 

Joker put his arm protectively around her shoulders and pressed her against his side as he turned, thinking they should head toward the building they were currently parked behind, but Harley didn’t seem ready. 

“How you doing sweets?” Joker asked as he gently steered her toward the building. 

Harley sucked in a ragged breath and winced. “I feel like burnt toast,” she croaked. 

Joker started to laugh, but he ended up coughing and both of them stopped moving, Harley put her arms around him and held her puddin until the coughing stopped. Joker gasped in the “clean” Gotham air. 

“You know sweets, this is a lesson never stand too close to an explosive.” He chuckled roughly. 

Harley nodded. “Yeah, it had a bit of a bang.” 

Joker looked down at her to see Harley, her make-up smeared across her face, black splotches of soot smeared across her features, grinning at him. 

He laughed. “You are adorable!” 

Joker suddenly lifted her up into his arms bridal style. Harley squeaked, wrapping her arms around his neck, followed by a series of sharp coughs. Joker chuckled, which quickly turned into a series of coughs as well. Harley curled into him, her arms around his neck as he stumbled toward the building and a heavy metal door embedded into the brick. 

The door, a typical metal grey door set into the brick wall of the building, had no handle or other visible or traditional way of opening it except for the small ten number button pad on the side. There was no speaker, just the button panel by the door embedded in the brick and what looked to be some sort of narrow slot in the door itself that was roughly eye level for someone of Harley’s height; for Joker, he would have to bend down a bit to look directly into it. 

Joker shifted Harley in his arms. Her head was lying on his shoulder, her arms around his neck. He frowned trying not to worry about her, but she looked bad and she had gone awfully quiet, which was unnerving for him. He balanced her carefully in his arms and reached out to the door. He performed a complicated series of knocks that beat out a rhythm that could have almost been part of a song. Joker giggled following the knocks by spinning around in a circle three times, unnecessary to getting someone to open the door, but it seemed the best finishing move for the series of knocks he had just finished. He held Harley tight against him as he spun. He heard a soft, muffled giggle against his shoulder. He sighed with relief at the sound of Harley’s amusement; if she could laugh, she would probably be all right. He grinned, relief flooding over him. He chuckled, which again turned into a painful cough. He was forced to lean against the door in order to maintain his hold on Harley, and to avoid falling over. 

They waited only a few seconds before the panel in the door slid open and a set of dark brown, blood shot eyes looked through. The person on the other side of the panel narrowed their eyes then muttered. “Password.” 

Joker grinned and said in a gravelly voice. “He that dies pays all debts.” 

The person behind the door stared at him for a beat then the slot closed with a crisp metal click. Joker stood still waiting and adjusting his grip on Harley. She made a little noise then coughed, the sound ragged and painful. Just when he was beginning to think they weren’t going to be let in, the metal door clicked and came open. A large bald man with a full black beard and little round glasses wearing dark blue hospital scrubs and a white jacket with a stethoscope held the door open for them. 

“Right this way.” 

Joker hurried inside, the door swinging closed behind him with the heavy thud that somehow made him think of a large clod of dirt falling on top of a casket, or worse, the doors of Arkham slamming shut, separating him from Harley and from playing with Batman--loud, heavy and final. Nothing could be worse, Joker thought, than being separated from Harley, and from terrorizing Batman. Joker shivered holding Harley close as he looked around. He found himself in a rather short hall that opened up into a large dimly lit room filled with medical equipment, curtains that cordoned off several sections where hospital beds lay--some containing patients--more equipment, and several medical personnel. The floor was a dull white, the walls had the typical hospital shade of depressing grey and blue green that no one used anywhere but in hospitals. The lighting was the same harsh white fluorescent light seen at hospitals all over, hiding nothing and showing everything. 

The big man hurried past them, motioning for them to follow, as he took off down the hall at a swift pace. 

“What seems to be the problem?” he asked in an emotionless voice. 

“We were caught in an explosion,” Joker said glancing down at Harley. She had gone quiet again and her breathing sounded funny to him as he spoke to the doctor. “There was a fire, lot of smoke, maybe some acid burns. A whole clusterfuck of things happened at once. It was rather spectacular, if I do say so myself.” He giggled and coughed, nearly dropping Harley as he stumbled. Harley made a small sound of protest and wrapped herself tighter against him. Joker grinned down at her and gave Harley a squeeze. 

The man at the door nodded with a slight frown. The trio walked into the large central room containing several sectioned off areas; the big man led them through in search of an unoccupied “room.” 

Joker could see that nearly every “room” in this large open area was occupied with patients. As their little group walked by, Joker looked in some of the rooms where the curtains were not pulled completely closed. In each room Joker was treated to the sight of different groups. Most, judging by the outfits, were affiliated with a few of Joker’s enemies. There were a handful of men dressed in top hats and striped leggings who looked like they had been in a gunfight. If he was to take a guess, Joker thought, he would peg them as Mad Hatter’s people. He grinned, might have to try and steal one of their hats. If they had some of the little nifty devices in them that Hatter liked to use, Joker could reverse engineer it and mess with Jervis. Joker grinned at the thought--now that would be fun! Another small group consisted of two men and one woman who were all wearing what Joker considered to be not only too much green, but a vomit-inducing shade of green, with question marks adorning their clothing. He shuddered at the poor, poor clothing choices. These idiots had to belong to Riddler he thought. Just as Joker walked by he heard the sound of Riddler himself drifting from behind a curtained section asking loudly. 

“What kind of soothing and cooling ointment provides relief from coughing, and relief with breathing, it’s a creamy blend of herbs and other ingredients: what am I?” 

Joker could hear the nurse sigh. “Please Mr. Riddler, no more riddles.” 

Joker snickered softly, wishing Harley was more aware. She would have laughed too. He frowned glancing down at his girl. Her eyes were closed and her chest rattled when she breathed. He felt that feeling he hated, a feeling that only Harley could stir in him. Fear. He held her a little tighter and hurried a little faster after the doctor. 

They continued along a short sterile looking “hallway” filled with more equipment, computers, cabinets with padlocks that Joker assumed probably contained pharmaceuticals. They passed a few nurses behind a desk who were talking in hushed voices over some coffee cups before they passed another set of rooms. One of the rooms had the curtain pulled away and Joker saw Scarecrow sitting on the edge of a hospital bed, a bloody wound in his shoulder, and with his creepy mask still over his face while a young male doctor with sandy blond hair and glasses stood nearby with his arms crossed and looking annoyed. 

“Dr. Crane, I must insist you remove the mask or I can’t treat you.” 

Scarecrow, his voice low and menacing, hissed back. “Tell me what scares you first.” 

The young doctored sighed. “Working here until I die. Now please, take off the mask.” 

Joker grinned. “Hey Scarecrow!! How’s it shaking, knobby knees!” 

Scarecrow turned his frightening masked head toward Joker and gave him his middle finger in response. Joker began to laugh and cough as they walked past. 

The last room they passed held two men wearing suits, half black, half white...Two-Face’s people clearly, Joker thought. Along with the more well-known criminals, or henchmen related to more well-known Gotham criminals that were currently in the hospital, there were also a few others, various gang members, Joker surmised from the looks of them. He saw a couple of mobsters in suits, and a handful of men that probably belonged to Penguin since they were wearing tuxedos. There were even a few people wearing some really awful masks that looked like doll faces. Joker frowned at them. That was new, but everyone in the hospital were in need of medical attention, some with minor injuries and some truly wounded. 

The big man Joker followed motioned him into a room and yanked the curtain around concealing them from the rest of the hospital. 

“Just lay the young lady on the bed. I’ll take you to another roo…” 

Joker interrupted him. “Oh no sweetheart, Harley and I stay together or there is going to be a major, and I do mean major, issue. I have separation anxiety.” Joker grinned showing off his white teeth that at the moment were not white at all, but instead were stained red and orange with blood. 

The man narrowed his eyes at Joker ready to tell him no, but at the last moment the man turned and pulled the curtain back. 

“Nurse Cross, will you have another bed brought here as soon as possible, two IV’s and oxygen, for two. Also, order two chest x rays. I need blood taken and I’m probably going to need some Bronchodilators,” the big man called out. He was answered by someone, a female voice who yelled. “On it!” 

Joker didn’t see who responded, but they only had to wait a few seconds before two nurses, both female, came in--a heavy set nurse that looked like an older version of Nurse Ratched from that movie, “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest” (Joker loved that movie) pushing another hospital bed in front of her, and a young nurse with two IV stands and two oxygen tanks that she was having trouble with as she twisted around trying to bring them into the room. 

The next few minutes were extremely difficult for Joker as he had to take orders, get in bed, let them poke him with needles to hook up the IV to him, forced him to unbutton his shirt so the doctor could listen to his chest and stick the tubes for the oxygen up his nose. But that didn’t compare to how awful it was for him to watch as they did it all to Harley, who only barely protested. 

He hated anyone “handling” his girl, touching her, especially when she was like she was now, defenseless, weak, hurt. He didn’t want anyone to touch her except for him, but if he wanted her to get better, to be helped, he had to be good and let them do their jobs. He wanted to smash faces and break the fingers of anyone who laid a hand on her. Watching the doctor and nurses work on her made him want to kill every one of them. No one touched Harley but him, no one. It took a great deal of effort, and he was extremely proud of himself for not attacking them, but he wanted to. Oh, he wanted to, very much. But he didn’t. 

Joker let the nurses get Harley setted with an IV in her arm and some oxygen only because he didn't know what to do for her himself, and he was not going to lose her. If he ever did, Gotham would pay more dearly...if they thought things were bad now...now was the big joke, the best joke, because Harley was part of the joke. She was in on it with him, understood what was so funny and laughed alongside him. She was his lover, his playmate, his friend, but if he ever lost her, he was going to burn Gotham to the ground. Everyone would mourn with him if anything ever happened to Harley. 

He sighed, gazing at her. Harley was lying on the bed looking pale and sick. She made very little noise, though her breathing sounded ragged until they hooked her up to the oxygen. After what seemed forever, she finally started to breathe better. He watched and a smile spread across his face as her eyes opened, fluttering for a moment. Her thick eyelashes framed her lovely blue eyes, the white shot through with irritated red, but she turned those gorgeous eyes of hers on him and he froze, waiting. It was only when she smiled at him that Joker felt his heart do a little flip of joy and he sighed in relief. She was all right. She was going to be all right. He waved at her with a big grin. 

“Hiya sweets!” Joker giggled. He couldn’t wait to tell her how good he had been. Harley always gave him the best rewards when he was good. 

Harley blinked a few times at him. She smiled and waved back weakly. “Hi puddin!” 

She sighed softly and closed her eyes again, her smile still on her lips. Her breathing was smooth and her color looked better. Joker grinned happily, knowing that she was going to be fine. 

Joker decided to keep his mind occupied (and his urge to kill everyone in check) by assaulting the nurses and the doctor with horribly corny knock-knock jokes. Now that he knew Harley was going to be well, he felt that the mood in here needed to be lightened up. 

Joker grinned at the youngest of the two nurses who was carefully trying to find a vein in his arm to extract blood for testing. Her expression was very serious as she pushed the needle in and began to extract the blood, filling up the vial with bright red liquid. 

“Knock knock.” Joker coughed then grinned. 

The nurse glanced up. She was pretty, he supposed, with green eyes and dark brown hair, not a bad figure, though of course she didn't hold a candle to Harley. All other women lacked Harley’s spark, her humor, her flair for theater, but mostly, all women lacked Harley’s smile. Her smile was a piece of art! The way she made him feel when she grinned, she sent shivers down his spine and that was just her smile. When she was naked and smiling at him... 

Joker grinned thinking about Harley naked, smiling at him, cracking her own jokes at the same time. And that was not even counting the things she could do in bed. Joker giggled softly--now that was heaven. There was only one girl in the world for him and her name was Harley Quinn. 

The nurse smiled at him as she glanced up from her work. “Who’s there?” 

“Cow says.” Joker giggled crossing his feet at the ankle as he reclined on the hospital bed. 

The nurse narrowed her eyes at him with a smile. “Cow says who?” 

“No silly, Cow says Moo!!” Joker laughed, then began to cough. 

The nurse shook her head with an amused grin. “Haha, very funny, now if you will please be still...” She placed a cotton ball on Joker’s arm before she wrapped the bandaged around it to hold it in place. She had just begun to gather up her things when they both heard the sound of smashing glass. The sound was followed by the sounds of shouting. 

“HEY!! You can’t just come in here like that?” 

“WHOA!! Put him down!!” 

“Who let him in!!” 

“Someone get a tranq gun!! A sedative!! Something!! Where’s he going??!” 

“Someone stop him!” 

Joker could hear the combination of people running, shouts, a few screams, something being thrown, the crash of things falling, more shouting, the sound of broken glass, and what might have been the sound of curtains being ripped back followed by more shouts. The nurse looked startled, sharing a look of concern with Joker when suddenly the curtain to Joker and Harley’s room was yanked aside and Joker saw Bob standing there in a dirty, soot covered white, glitter encrusted tutu with matching t-shirt and a pair of white sweat pants and tennis shoes. The bald man looked like a frantic, heavy bald angel with no wings, but when he saw Joker, he barreled into the room and grabbed the clown off the bed lifting him up, yanking the IV stand with him and hugged Joker tightly against his chest. 

Joker gasped as the big man threatened to crush him with his enthusiasm. Bob smiled as he rocked back and forth. 

Joker groaned and choked. “Yes yes, Bob, Harley and I are alive. How did you even find us?” 

Bob hugged Joker more rocking him back and forth with even more enthusiasm, his bald head pressed against Joker’s chest. Bob made no sound at all as he pressed Joker against him, but it was clear that Bob was very happy to have found Joker and Harley alive. 

Joker groaned as his ribs and lungs ached, but he was smiling. “ Okay Bob, you are cutting off my air!!” 

The nurse, who had scrambled to the corner of the room looking terrified spoke softly. “Sir, could you put my patient down?” 

Bob finally lifted his head and looked up at Joker who gave him a grin. “It’s okay darling, you can put me down.” 

Bob glanced at the nurse with a frown, looked back at Joker before he finally put Joker back on his feet, slowly. Joker reached up and Bob ducked his head down in order to allow Joker to pat the big man on the head. Bob stood back up, beaming with pleasure. 

“Yes Bob darling, you are a good boy.” Joker chuckled softly patting the big man on his chest then. Bob reached down and stroked Joker’s hair back from his face before he yanked the clown close for another hug, smashing Joker’s face against his stomach. Joker stood tolerantly, letting the big man stroke his hair back, before hugging him again. Joker sighed and wrapped his arms around Bob returning the big man’s hug, but he swore if Bob licked his hand and tried to slick his hair back into place they were gonna have words! Or at least Joker would have words and Bob would just stare at him. Luckily when Bob finally released him, he resisted the urge to do just what Joker had feared. Joker could see it in his eyes as Bob stuck his bottom lip out, his eyes roaming over Joker as he examined Joker’s hair and face seeing the soot, blood and burns. 

Suddenly Joker’s thoughts were disturbed as Bob, with a frown, picked Joker up again, flipped him over and laid him back on his hospital bed with a loud thunk. 

Joker gulped when he hit the hospital bed before he burst out with a laugh. “Thank you sweetheart.” 

Bob nodded and walked over to Harley’s bed. Joker watched with a smile as Bob very gently reached out and stroked her hair. Bob, Joker thought, was the exception to touching Harley; the big man was always gentle and clearly cared for both Joker and Harley like...well, Joker wondered. Almost like he and Harley were Bob’s kids...Weird. He shrugged to himself. 

“Don’t worry Bob. Harley’s fine--she’s just sleeping.” Joker motioned the nurse back over. The nurse gave him a dubious look, her eyes darting between her patient and the large tutu wearing man, unsure if she should move. 

Joker smiled at the nurse. “Don’t worry nursie, Bob is harmless. A bit of a worry wart, and a mother hen, but harmless.” An orderly stood cautiously outside the room with a small baton in hand he felt would be inadequate to handle the large man who stood in the room with Joker and Harley. 

The nurse frowned staring at Bob as she carefully moved back to gather up the blood she had collected, along with her other things before she quickly left the room. Joker sighed and relaxed on the bed as Bob pulled up a stool next to his bed after he shoved Harley’s bed closer to Joker. Joker grinned; Bob always knew exactly what he needed. 

“So Bob my dear, how did you find us? You weren’t even with us on our little date,” Joker observed. 

Bob gave Joker a stern glare. 

Joker frowned. “You heard about the explosion on television?” 

Bob nodded. 

“Ah...” He giggled. “Good! We made the news!” 

Bob narrowed his eyes, which made Joker break out into more laughter occasionally punctuated by coughing. “It was glorious Bob!! You should have seen it--one of our better explosions.” 

Bob sighed and smiled. Clearly Joker and Harley were forgiven. 

Joker smiled, letting himself relax further. He reached out and took Harley’s hand. He held her hand, kissing her knuckles tenderly before he laid her hand across his chest, watching her sleep. He smiled at her. Under Bob’s watchful gaze, Joker drifted off to sleep. 

* 

Joker woke with a start. 

At first he wasn’t sure what had woken him. The only sounds he heard were Harley’s steady breathing and the steady, light beep of machinery that sat in the room monitoring them, combined with Bob’s light snoring. Harley was sleeping, her breath normal, her hand still wrapped in his. She looked pretty and undisturbed, like an angel--albeit a slightly soot smudged angel. He smiled holding her hand up to his lips again and brushed her curled fingers against his lips. 

Bob was slumped in a chair against the wall, his hands folded across his belly, his mouth hanging open, and snoring lightly. 

Joker frowned. He felt that something had woken him up, but he didn’t know what. He sat up slowly, though he kept a hold of Harley’s hand. He cocked his head to the side then he heard it again, a shout in the distance that was cut off. He narrowed his eyes. Something was definitely up. He pulled the oxygen tubes out of his nostrils before he also yanked out the IV and slid to his feet as he gently laid Harley’s hand back down on her chest. 

He had just begun to walk over to the curtain when he heard the sound of automatic fire followed by a loud scream. 

Bob surged to his feet while Joker reached out and shook Harley before he leaned over her and kissed her, sliding his tongue along her lips. 

He whispered. “Harley, pumpkin, wake up.” 

Harley’s eyes flew open. “Puddin?” Her waking was followed by her grabbing a hold of him, wrapping her arms around Joker and kissing him passionately. Joker giggled. Clearly she was feeling better, but now wasn’t the time. He pushed back on her shoulders. “Harley poo...” 

Joker didn’t get a chance to say another word before the curtains were yanked back and two gunmen wearing large rubber pig masks stepped into the room, each holding AK-47’s and yelled. 

“Get out here!! Get out here now!” 

Joker started to say something, but it was Bob who stopped him, laying a hand on his shoulder. Joker frowned glancing over his shoulder at Bob, but the big man just shook his head marginally. Joker sighed and helped Harley to her feet instead, trying to be as gentle as he could, pulling her IV out before the men in the masks shoved the barrel of their guns at him. 

“Come on clown, move it!!” 

Harley stumbled off the bed and Joker put his arm around her shoulders as they were ushered out, forced down the hall, and around the corner into the larger space of the hospital emergency area. 

“Go and sit on the floor with the others.” One of the pig face men snarled and shoved Joker in the back. Joker bit back what he wanted to say as he guided Harley with Bob right beside him over to a section of the floor near Riddler and Scarecrow, who wasn’t currently wearing his mask, instead showing the face of a gaunt man with dark blond hair. Behind them were several patients, nurses, and doctors. A few people were crying quietly, but other than that the group of hostages were quiet. 

Harley whispered. “Puddin, what’s going on?” 

Joker shrugged. “Not sure just yet sweets, but we are either being taken hostage for Batman to pay our ransoms--which he would totally get me and you since we are his two most favorite people, but I don’t think he would bother with the rest of these fools--or they might be here to rob the place.” 

“Rob?” Harley asked softly. 

Joker shrugged in response. 

Joker guided Harley along and sat on the floor, keeping Harley close to him. Once the gunmen’s attention was drawn away from him, he looked around evaluating the situation with a critical eye. 

He could see the doctor who had escorted him and Harley inside was lying in a pool of blood on the floor. From where he was sitting, Joker could only see the man’s head and the slowly spreading pool of blood. The blood was a shocking crimson against the white tiles of the floor in the harsh hospital lights, and there was a lot of it. He was probably dead, Joker thought. As he looked around he counted at least five armed men standing in front of them and with the way they kept looking around, there were probably a few more that he didn’t see, along with whoever was the leader of this merry little band of idiots. 

One of the pig masked men kept staring at Joker, Harley, and Riddler. 

Joker turned his wide grin on the person, which prompted him to take a step back while their weapon aimed at Joker visibly shook. 

The person leaned close to another pig-masked gunman, and while he was attempting to keep his voice down, his nervousness made his whisper far louder than he probably intended Joker thought with a grin. 

“Hey, Walt. Walt...Walt!” The nervous pig man was clearly male judging by his voice. 

The man he was addressing as Walt turned around and snarled. “Fred, I thought we said no names!” 

“Sorry Walt but, did you get a look at those three?” Fred motioned with his gun at Joker, Harley and Riddler. 

Walt came over to stand beside Fred and looked down at Joker, Harley and Riddler. He turned toward Fred and elbowed him in the side. “Shut the fuck up Fred, that ain’t the real ones.” 

Fred hissed. “But Walt, it sure as fuck looks like them.” 

Walt sighed. “It ain’t them, now shut up.” 

That was the moment another man came around the corner. Unlike the rest of the pig masked men who were wearing more cartoon like pig masks, this one was downright frightening. The mask looked as if it were made from actual pig flesh and was framed by long black hair. The man wearing it wore a simple, loose neck black and white vertical striped t-shirt, jeans and a black shirt over the top. He also carried an AK-47 held loosely in his hands. 

“Well, well good evening everyone. I am Mr. Pickton. I’m new to Gotham, trying to make my way in the Gotham criminal world and you lucky people are our gang’s first big heist. We are here for your weapons, your money and your drugs. As long as everyone behaves you will probably walk out of here alive. Now...empty your pockets.” 

Joker frowned narrowing his eyes as he whispered to Riddler. “Nygma, how would you and Crane feel about a Joker and Harley team up?” 

Riddler was glaring at Mr. Pickton as he whispered in return, “Count me in.” 

Crane hissed. “Me too.” 

Joker kissed Harley on the ear and whispered. “Ready for some fun sweets?” 

Harley giggled softly. “Everything is fun with you puddin.” 

Joker chuckled softly.


	2. Crawl Before You Walk

Mr. Pickton laughed. The sound was a little like someone choking a pig while gargling with salt and snorting mustard...Disgusting, Harley thought. Walt and Fred, their faces still hidden behind their masks, watched their boss nervously while at the same time watching the hostages. 

Harley frowned and glared at their captors, her blue eyes flashed with annoyance at the man as he continued to chuckle and guffaw like an idiot. Harley narrowed her eyes more imagining her hammer meeting his head with a great big smash. She grinned leaning against Joker who put his arm around her shoulders though he said nothing about the laughing pig. Harley figured the stupid man was clearly trying to make himself sound threatening or maniacal, she really wasn’t sure which, but all he came out sounding was stupid as far as she was concerned. No one could laugh like her puddin. If she was armed, she would have shot Pickton for even trying to pretend he could laugh like her puddin. Harley closed her eyes and leaned against Joker. She still felt weak and every part of her ached. Feeling the warmth of his body, the press of his arm around her and the occasional way he would sneak a kiss on the top of her head did much to make her feel better. 

Joker watched as four members of the gang had moved over behind the nurses’ station. He couldn’t quite see the medicine cabinet, only a hint of it. It was a fairly typical drug cabinet, about six feet high and four feet wide with clear acrylic panels to allow the doctors and nurses to see inside. The cabinet was also equipped with a 3-point lock system and reinforced steel doors. Two of the pig masked men were discussing, rather loudly, about picking the lock, while the other two were arguing that they should just break the glass, completely unaware that it was actually acrylic panels and not glass at all. What idiots, Joker mused with a tiny shake of his head. 

After a bit, one of the masked men stepped over to the arguing group and asked about just getting a key off one of the nurses. That dissolved into another argument since apparently the nurses had hidden the key somewhere. Joker chuckled watching them while their leader just walked around laughing and uttering the occasional threatening jibe at the hostages. Clearly none of them knew what they were doing. 

Joker sighed and whispered. “What a bunch of philistines. They have no idea what they are doing. It’s a disgrace to good bad guys like us.” 

Harley scooted even closer to Joker. She smiled as she felt his arm tighten around her. She opened her eyes and reached out to rest her hand on his knee, squeezing gently as she whispered. “So, what are we going to do puddin?” 

Joker frowned in thought leaning his face down against the top of her head and rubbing his nose against her sooty hair as he whispered. “Crane and I need to get to the janitor’s closet. That, my dear, is where they usually keep all the chemicals.” 

Harley frowned slightly. “Why there?” 

Joker grinned. “Because I can make anything with a little bleach, hydrogen peroxide and some drain cleaner!” 

Crane nodded. “That’s true, and with a few household products, I can make a mild form of my fear gas.” 

Joker giggled quietly. “A modified form of my gas, your gas and a couple of bombs and we’re in business!” 

That was when Walt elbowed Fred. “Go shut them up. They’re whispering.” 

Fred frowned, looking at Walt. “Whaddaya want me to do?” 

“Go hit him with the butt of your gun, dumbass,” Walt hissed. “Make ‘em shut up.” 

Fred didn’t look sure about that course of action, but he walked over and before he could rethink his actions, hit Joker in the cheek with the butt of his rifle hard enough that 

Joker’s head smacked against Harley’s and a pressure wound opened up, blood instantly flowing hot and red down his pale cheek. 

Fred snarled, or at least attempted a snarl, but it came out more as a whine. “Shut up clown.” 

Harley gasped and was on her feet before Joker or anyone could stop her. She shoved both hands against Fred’s chest knocking the pig masked criminal back a full two steps with the force of her push. 

“Don’t you lay a hand on my puddin!!” she growled as she stepped forward, slamming her hands once more against the startled man’s chest. 

Joker cringed only slightly, but a smile still danced across his face. He couldn’t help but be proud of his girl. She was always his first defender no matter who it was. He smirked in fond remembrance of the way she had put herself between him and Batman once, caught the flying rat’s fist in her hand. It had been amazing. Even Batsy had paused in shock! But, right now wasn’t the best time for Harley to be defending them, not when he and the others were working out some sort of plan. 

He grabbed at Harley’s ankle gently, trying to pull her down onto his lap. “Come on sweets, sit down.” 

Harley turned and glared at Joker. “He hit you!” 

“I know poo, but...” 

That was when Pickton came over and grabbed Harley by the arm, yanking her up against his chest. Harley gave a startled yelp. The man’s grip was surprisingly strong and his fingers were like ice on her skin. 

This close the mask sent a chill down her spine. It was indeed made from pig skin, maybe even a real pig head hollowed out into a mask. The sickly sweet smell of rotten meat mixed with the coppery taste of blood seemed to drift around the mask. This close, Harley wanted to vomit almost immediately. 

“What seems to be the problem little piggy?” His voice was muffled by the fleshy mask, but Harley caught a scent of fresh rot on his breath through the mouth of the mask. 

Harley gasped in pain as the man’s fingers pressed into her arm, sending a chill over her flesh that made her feel as if she were freezing. 

The moment Pickton touched her, Joker began to surge to get to his feet. No one grabbed Harley! No one but him!! But Riddler grabbed the back of his jacket and yanked Joker back causing the long limbed clown to slip and fall back on his rear. Joker turned with a snarl ready to pound Riddler’s nose in, but Harley made a sound of fear, snapping his attention back to her. 

Harley wasn’t feeling her best, but she would be damned if anyone but her puddin was going to put their hands on her, let alone call her names. She swung her fist at Pickton, caught the man in the nose of his mask with enough strength that she knocked his mask clean off his head. The pig flesh mask flew off his head to land on the floor with a fleshy sound, a loud “swack” against the floor. Someone screamed. 

Harley let out a startled gasp. If she had thought the mask was bad, what she saw underneath was worse. 

The man behind the mask looked as if the flesh of his face had been pulled back and up tightly into his hairline of greasy black hair. The skin looked so tight that if any wrong move, the lift of a brow, the twitch of his lips or a good hard sneeze would tear the flesh. His eyes were small, reminding Harley of little dark pig eyes. His mouth was misshapen, the lips too full, too wet, too plump and fleshy with pull marks and scars around the outside of the lips. His nose was large, flat, a smear across his face and when he smiled at her (which seemed difficult, as if his mouth didn’t want to move) his teeth were large, flat with too wide spaces between them. 

Pickton snickered at the look of horror on Harley’s face. “How about a kiss, little piggy?” 

He slung his weapon over his arm and grabbed her with his other hand hauling her toward him. 

Harley gagged; the man’s breath was like a sewer. She thrust her hands out with a whine as Pickton tried to pull her closer. 

“Here piggy, piggy...” he hissed with a wet lick of his lips. He was actually salivating! 

Joker, in a panic to save his girl, turned and punched Riddler in the face breaking the man’s nose which had the slender man gasping in pain, his hands immediately going to his nose as blood gushed from his nostrils. No one paid any attention to Joker and Riddler, everyone’s attention on the horror that was Pickton’s face. Just as Joker saw his chance to try to get up again, Bob rushed past all of them to the sounds of screams from the hostages, and ploughed into Pickton like a bull. The deformed man lost his grip on Harley, who fell and hit the floor hard. The other gang members yelled, swarming over to their boss and Bob as Bob planted Pickton on the floor and hit him, his big fists getting two good hits in, but before Bob could get another strike on Pickton, one of the pig masked men rushed up and hit him in the back of the head with a rifle. It took several hard hits, along with lots of shouting, some screaming from the hostages, but they finally knocked Bob out before he could unleash more damage to Pickton. 

During the commotion, Ridder hissed low, (though he was furious at Joker and ready to hit the clown right back, he wasn’t a fool and knew he would need to psychotic clown to get out of here) his voice nasally and liquid sounding from being struck. He hauled on Joker’s arm. “Come on--this is our chance!” 

Joker yanked his arm back. “Not without Bob and Harley!” 

“Forget them! We need to go now! We won’t get a better chance!” Riddler whispered urgently. 

Crane had already begun a quick crab walk away from the group, turning and slipping down a hall. Riddler was hauling on Joker’s arm trying to get the clown to move. 

Joker was torn: either go and get Harley and Bob, or risk not being able to help them at all to get out of here. But he didn’t want to leave either of them. As Riddler hauled on Joker trying to get him to move, Joker realized that he had to choose. Bob was unconscious, which might be for the best at the moment; if Joker or Harley were hurt, Bob would lose focus and immediately start attacking whoever hurt them. The big man was usually content to follow directions, but when it came to the safety of the two people he followed (or thought of as his charges, possibly), Bob was a bit of a loose cannon. With Bob unconscious, however, he was actually safer...he wouldn’t do anything foolish to protect them. And while the big guy had his uses, being sneaky was not always one of Bob’s best qualities. There was Harley though. The thought of leaving her behind was like a hard, cold stone in his stomach, which made him not just feel annoyed, but a little weak...and on the other hand, he simply couldn’t have as much fun without her. 

Joker yanked back, rushed over and in a surprising show of strength for such a skinny man, he grabbed a startled Harley by her wrist and began to drag her. Harley swallowed the yelp that threatened to come bubbling out of her mouth when she twisted herself around and then saw that it was her puddin who had grabbed her. He let go and motioned her to come with him before he grabbed and tugged on her again. Harley scrambled onto her hands and knees, quickly following Joker as he crawled away after Riddler. 

One of the doctors saw the four of them scramble around. He thought about saying something, but didn’t. Maybe they were going to bring help, maybe not, but he didn’t see any reason to call them out. It wouldn’t do any of them any good, so he sighed and hoped that their criminal pride would demand they take these assholes out. 

* 

The four of them scrambled down a pitch dark hall, making only a few sounds as their hands or shoes rubbed against the linoleum flooring. Harley figured they had to look ridiculous, the four of them on their hands and knees crawling swiftly down a hall. The weak light coming from the main room that they had just escaped only extended down the hall a very short distance, giving the illusion of safety while the rest of this hall was filled with darkness. They had only gone a short distance before their small group was plunged into deeper darkness. It took a couple of precious seconds for their eyes to adjust which allowed them to see that the hall had several closed doors. A few doors had tiny glass windows embedded in them, but the rest looked to be solid doors, darker shadows in the dark hall. The end of the hall was impossible to see. 

As their group moved swiftly along the corridor, Harley could see abandoned hospital beds against the wall, a couple of wheelchairs and an IV stand. Crane moved quickly, bypassing several closed doors before he finally found one that he liked and tried the knob. The door opened with a low whine of protest. Crane scuttled inside with the others quickly following. Harley was the last to enter. She quickly turned to look back the way they had come. She saw one of the masked men walk to the front of the hall and she quickly and quietly pulled the door closed. 

“I don’t know how long we have before one of them comes down here looking. I think they know we’re gone already,” she said slowly, her voice tight. “I mean, they have to notice us gone...we kinda stand out in a crowd.” 

Ridder was sitting with his back up against what looked like a desk, gingerly touching his swelling nose. Blood had dripped down and stained the front of his outfit. “I can’t believe you punched me in the nose!” 

Joker made a face at him. “I can’t believe you think a green leotard is a proper fashion choice. Not everyone wants to see your little riddle Riddler. So there, we’re both in shock.” 

Riddler made a face at Joker and gave him the middle finger. 

Joker leaned against the wall, ignoring Riddler for the moment as he gathered Harley close. She leaned in close to her clown, smiling at him. Joker’s eyes ran over her, his fingers tenderly touching her face and arms as he did a quick inspection of her face. 

“Did he hurt you poo?” he asked with concern. 

Harley snuggled close. It didn’t matter how much danger they were in, a quick cuddle from her puddin was always worth taking advantage of she thought. 

Harley smiled at him. “No, I’m fine puddin. Did you see his face?!” 

Joker giggled. “I did and can I just say, he hit every branch on the way down the ugly tree.” 

They both giggled. Joker cupped her face between his hands and pulled her close to kiss her. The kiss was gentle at first, just a brush of his lips against hers. Harley made a little noise of happiness, her eyes fluttering closed as she took a deep breath through her nose, letting the scent of him wash away the lingering stink of Pickton, even if Joker’s scent was laced with the smell of smoke at the moment. She kissed Joker in return. Her hands grasped the front of his suit jacket and she pulled him closer, making him grunt as she opened her mouth wider and kissed him as if he was her only source of fresh air, deepening the kiss, her tongue sliding happily into his mouth. Joker giggled dropping his hands from her face to grab her sides, for the moment the situation and their audience forgotten. 

Riddler made gagging noises like he was a youngster being forced to watch his parents kiss. “You two are worse than a bad romantic movie.” 

Joker licked Harley’s mouth then the tip of her nose before he glared over Harley’s shoulder at Riddler. “Watch it Quizmaster or I’ll break more than your nose.” 

Riddler sneered. “I’d like to see you try, you rejected circus clown.” 

Harley turned around, her eyes blazing. “What did you call my puddin?!” 

She started to scramble across the short distance between them. Joker laughed and grabbed Harley’s hips and hauled her back while Riddler cringed against the desk. 

Crane hissed. “Will you three stop acting like children!” 

The three of them stopped to glare at Crane who was standing on top of one of the desks in the room and fiddling with what looked like an air duct grill. 

“What are you doing?” Joker asked as he stood up, pulling Harley to her feet with him. 

Harley glared at Riddler. She pointed at her eyes with her forefinger and pinky before she turned her fingers and pointed them at him, her nose wrinkled up and her lips pursed. Riddler made a face back at her and stuck out his tongue. 

Crane looked down from what he was doing. He had small piece of metal (Joker couldn’t quite see what it was) that he was using to unscrew the grill from the wall. “I think we can crawl through here. There should be a janitor's closet only a few feet down.” 

Joker frowned. “How would you know that?” 

Crane shrugged. “I may have worked here once after I left Arkham Asylum as a doctor, before I realized who I really was, what my true life’s work is...and before they kicked me out for experimenting on patients.” 

Joker giggled. 

Harley frowned. “I thought air ducts being big enough to crawl in was only in the movies?” 

Crane frowned. “True, but that would be if you were going a long distance. This will simply be from this room, past maybe…” He thought for a moment. “Maybe three rooms, and it will be tight.” 

Riddler stood up. “Why would we want to…” 

That was when they all four heard what sounded like rubber soles against linoleum. 

Riddler muttered quietly, “Fuck.” 

Crane nodded as he pulled off the vent cover carefully and placed it on the desk he was standing on before he pulled himself up. With seemingly little effort, Crane shimmied into the vent. Joker grabbed Harley’s hand and hopped up onto the desk after Crane, hauling her with him. He lifted her up above him, happily holding onto her hips. 

Harley grabbed the edge and pulled herself into the vent, her hips just barely squeezing in. 

Joker gave her to the count of five before he grabbed the edge. 

He glanced over his shoulder at Riddler. “Coming green bean?” 

Riddler groan and stood up. “This is stupid.” 

Joker giggled and wiggled himself into the vent. “Good thing we are all rather slim or this might be much less fun! Oh and Riddler dear, I know you are about to have a great view, but no touchy the buttcheeks, those are only for Harley.” 

Riddler could hear Harley’s muffled giggle in the vent. He rolled his eyes and pulled himself onto the desk. 

* 

Walt walked down the hall. This part of the criminal hospital gave him the creeps. It seemed not just darker down here, but colder too. He was randomly opening doors and peaking inside, looking for the four hostages that had escaped. Of course they would be the ones that Fred thought had thought were the Joker and Riddler. The idea that Fred might have been right gave him the willies. He continued down the hall a few more steps, turning to see if any of the gang were watching to make sure he performed a thorough search, but when Walt didn’t see anyone watching him, he counted to ten and quickly headed back. Good enough, he thought to himself with a shudder. 

* 

The four Gotham rogues crawled through the vent on their elbows, stomachs, and knees. The space was quite cramped, dark and hot. Harley realized the darkened hallways were much easier to stand; she couldn’t see a thing as she crawled along. She could only hear everyone's ragged breathing, sweat pouring down into her eyes and the sound of her heart hammering in her ears, which became deafening. Her breathing became ragged as she struggled to move and the walls seemed just a little tighter now than they did a few seconds earlier. 

Crane’s voice drifted back to her. “Only a little further, I think.” 

Harley hissed. “You said that a few minutes ago.” 

Crane said nothing as he continued to inch forward. Harley began to tremble. She had never really liked tight spaces, but it had never been a phobia before. This experience, however, the darkness, the heat, the tight confines of the ductwork, the beat of her heart, she knew she was starting to panic, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. She kept moving, though thoughts of being crushed, of the walls slowly closing it, closer and closer, pressing down on her, no light anywhere, nothing but tightness, darkness, the air going stale, her breath coming in little gasps...They could become stuck in here and die of suffocation... 

Joker was perfectly content. He had been in similar situations before, escaping from Arkham (never an easy task and sometimes he had had to leave by means less than...fun. Or a few times when he had been in the Gotham sewers and had to hide in tight spaces...there was a faded memory...something about a closet and crying...he was small...but he had no idea what that was all about), but he was attuned to Harley so that he felt the shift in her before he caught the sound of panic in her breathing. After a couple of seconds Harley stopped moving, her breath punctuated by little sharp gasps. 

“Harley? Pumpkin? You okay?” Joker asked. 

Harley didn’t answer him. 

Riddler hissed. “What’s going on?” 

Joker sighed. “Nothing...Harley?” 

Harley was beginning to panic, her breath coming faster now. He could hear her struggling, followed by the sounds of Crane crawling further away. Joker had to wiggled his arm free to reach out and touch her ankle. 

“Harley?” 

Harley gasped, then cried. “I can’t! I can’t do this!” 

She started to try and wiggle backwards. Joker stopped moving and slid his hand up her leg and onto her rear to stop her from going backwards, though she had forced him to move back a little which had Riddler cursing behind Joker. 

“Harley, Harls...stop,” Joker murmured softly. 

She heard him over the sound of her panicked breathing, but only barely. She whined with fear. “Puddin I can’t do this. I don’t like tight spaces. I can’t breathe, everything is closing it. I can’t, I can’t!!” Her panic was getting worse and he could hear that she had started to cry. 

Joker sighed, only slightly annoyed with her. He knew she was a little claustrophobic, but it had never been a problem really, but then again, if they were in a tight space it was usually together and she seemed fine...Joker rubbed his hand over her rear. 

“Hey sweets, you can do this. You’re my girl remember, the Joker’s girl. You can do anything at all.” Joker cooed softly. 

Riddler groaned. “Oh my god. Will you two stop it already and let’s go!” 

Joker growled wishing he could turn around and hit Riddler...Oh wait, he thought. Joker kicked behind him and was rewarded by the sound of Riddler yelping. 

“Shut up Riddler, Harley is having a hard time,” Joker hissed. 

Riddler mumbled. “This is why I don’t have a girlfriend.” 

Joker snorted. “It’s more likely because your outfit gives them a good view of the tiny riddle--nothing worth solving there.” 

Riddler muttered something back that Joker couldn’t make out, but he didn’t care at the moment. Harley needed him and that was more important. 

Joker went back to caressing Harley’s backside...which had the added benefit of his getting to play with her butt. “Harley poo, pumpkin pie...just keep going forward. You know your Joker would never let you get stuck right? That wouldn’t be fun at all! And I never do anything that isn’t fun right?” 

Harley swallowed. “Right...” 

Joker chuckled. “Just focus on how much fun we’re about to have. We are going to kill all those pigs and I am going to get Pickton and do something special to him just for you. Would you like that?” Joker asked softly his hand moving around her backside in a gentle caress. 

Harley answered softly, her breathing almost regular now. “Yeah...yeah, I would like that puddin.” 

Joker giggled. “See, I know my girl. Now, just keep going, I’m sure we are almost at the end and when we get out I’ll give you a big kiss. Would you like that?” 

Harley nodded, though Joker could not see it. “Yes puddin, I would.” 

“Good. Now, let's go!” He gave her a playful smack on the rear. Harley giggled in response and began to move again. 

Riddler muttered from behind. “This is why I don't have relationships.” 

“Oh shut up Riddler, no one would want to be in a relationship with you because you’re a big nerd.” 

“I am not,” Riddler huffed as he crawled along. 

“Are too...nerrrrd.” He drew the word out and laughed, which was accompanied by Harley’s giggle. 

They continued to move for what seemed like forever, an endless straight line of tight space and darkness. Sweat made the metal lining of the vent slippery. Soon, the vent filled with the scent of body order, soot and wet metal, when Crane suddenly stopped. 

Harley ran into his feet with an, “Owf!” 

Crane hissed. “Back up everyone, I need to turn around. 

Crane twisted his body into a short branch in the ductwork to turn around in the vent, bumping into Harley who backed up into Joker. He laughed in response, giving Harley’s rear a playful bite before he kicked Riddler to force him backwards. Riddler responded with a string of curses. Crane turned until he had his feet facing the vent cover and pushed. He was forced to kick from his awkward angle two or three times, but the vent gave fairly easily. The vent fell into the room with a muffled clattered followed by the sounds of something else falling. Crane slithered out of the vent and dropped down followed by the soft sounds of his cursing. 

Harley scrambled swiftly after him, going head first into the room. Crane turned and caught her, easing her the rest of the way out of the vent before she could hurt herself or cause a great deal of noise. Joker came out easily, followed by Riddler to come crashing out of the vent and falling like a heap of potatoes making a great deal of noise. Joker immediately grabbed Harley away from Crane with a dirty look at the Scarecrow, but Harley threw her arms around Joker. She buried her face against his chest and started to cry softly. Joker stroked her sweaty, dirty hair back from her face. His touch, caressing her hair made the tension drain out of her. She went weak in his arms and held on tight. Joker held her close and tilted her face up. She smiled and he kissed her gently. Harley made a little sound of want and Joker tightened his hold on her, pulling her up against him, his hands dropping down to grab her rear and press her against him. Even now in their current situation, he wanted her. They stumbled back into the corner of the room continuing to kiss passionately. 

Crane and Riddler stood quietly in the small space, listening to see if anyone had heard them while Joker and Harley ignored everything except each other, but no one came in response to the sound of Riddler falling. 

After a few minutes of tense breathing, waiting and listening, Crane began to search the walls with his fingertips. They all heard the sounds of things being knocked aside, the sound of a maybe a plastic bucket, the rattle of something metal then a click and the room they were in was flooded with yellow light. 

Every one of them winced. 

After a few seconds they all opened their eyes to find themselves in a janitor's closet. 

Crane grinned, looking pleased. “Here we are!” 

Joker looked around clearly pleased with what he saw, his grin spreading slowly across his face as the amount and variety of supplies gave him so many ideas. 

“You knows boys and girls, this is going to be just like that movie Home Alone!” Joker grinned. “Let the games begin!”


	3. Just What the Doctor Ordered

The closet didn’t provide a great deal of space for either Crane or Joker. The two men were going through the chemicals available to them, but they kept bumping into each other or Harley or Riddler. After a few tense seconds of both men struggling to find space Joker announced. 

“All right, we need separate work areas!” Joker pressed his lips together in a thin line of annoyance, his arms crossed over his chest and a slight pout to his lips. “Harley and I need our own space.” 

Crane frowned at his fellow rogue. He had just slipped on some plastic gloves from a large box of latex gloves he had found on a shelf. He glanced at the clown with one raised eyebrow holding his hands up like he was about to operate. 

“Do you think that is wise?” Crane asked with genuine concern. “Separating puts us all in more danger of discovery.” 

Joker wrinkled his nose. “I can’t work like this.” He tried to throw his arms out, but didn’t have enough room to do that, so instead he made a frustrated “Uhh!” sound followed by, “I need space to work. I’ll just go one room over--I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Joker waved a hand in dismissal. 

Crane shrugged. “All right, but come back here when you are done.” 

Crane turned away, already focused on making a version of his fear toxin. 

Joker narrowed his eyes slightly. He didn’t like being told what to do, but he didn’t feel like starting a fight with Crane right now when there were far more amusing things to do, like take out his fury on that pig who tried to kiss Harley. Joker made a face that had Harley giggling behind her hand. 

“Fine, back in ten!” Joker pointed. “Harley, be a dear and grab those two buckets, that bottle of bleach and fill those buckets with as much drain cleaner and rust remover as they can hold. Oooh and grab those air fresheners right there, as many bottles of peroxide as you can carry...Hmm...and let’s see--how about that ammonia? Right there! Yes, and a box of surgical masks. Ooh, this is going to be fun!” Joker giggled while Harley grabbed what he pointed out on the numerous shelves around him until her buckets were filled. Joker grabbed the rest of the bottles, some rubbing alcohol and a couple of toilet brushes. 

“See ya, dorks!” Joker loudly whispered. 

Joker pushed the door to the closet open, peeking both directions into the darkened hall. There was only a weak light at the very end, close to where they had escaped from that hadn’t been on earlier. Whoever had found the light and turned it on must have been very disappointed because the light fluttered weakly, creating more shadows than it actually chased away. Joker had pulled the door open a little wider and was about to step out with Harley close behind him when Riddler hissed. “I know exactly why you want to be alone Joker. So you and Harley can fool around like a couple of irresponsible teenagers. You two are like dogs in heat. Just don’t take too long or Crane and I are going to escape without you.” 

Joker turned to glare at him. “I’ll take as long as I take green bean and you’re just jealous that I have a girlfriend and you don’t, dweeb.” 

Riddler gasped in disgust at being called a dweeb. Riddler’s expression had both Joker and Harley in snickering stitches as Riddler opened his mouth to say something snarky back, but Crane reached out a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “I need your assistance.” He handed Riddler a surgical mask. “And you will need one of these.” 

Riddler snapped his mouth shut and turned away, but not before Joker stuck his tongue out at him and slipped out--with Harley following close behind--before Riddler could do or say anything in return. The two of them crept into the room directly across from the janitor’s closet, slipping in and closing the door silently without turning the light on. Joker set his supplies down carefully on the floor before he turned and started to feel around for a lightswitch. He groped blindly for a moment until his hands encountered Harley’s breasts. 

“Ooh, what are these?” He chuckled giving her breasts a gentle squeeze which made Harley giggle. “Hmm...these are very nice.” Joker grinned, groping her some more. 

Harley squealed and wiggled with delight and a hissed. “Puddin!” 

He chuckled. “Not the light switch, got it.” 

He moved past Harley, finding the wall and finally found the light switch. He flicked it up. The light that came on was the same sick urine shade of yellow that most hospital lights seemed to be if they weren’t the harsh white sort. Joker turned around to look at their cramped surroundings. They were in another closet, but this one appeared to be some sort of linen or a laundry closet with pillows, sheets, towels and an assortment of other clothes that any hospital would need, all folded neatly on several shelves that lined the walls. There was a large, old looking double sided sink, the double faucets dripping water slowly. 

Joker grinned. “This is perfect.” 

Harley set her buckets down looking around. “Which one you want cleaned off for you to use puddin?” 

Joker pointed. “Mm, probably that one sweets, with the towels on it.” 

Harley nodded and quickly removed the towels from the shelf. She had just turned around when Joker grabbed her around her waist, shoving her up against the door. He reached up and grasped her face between his hands, firmly but gently, and kissed her. It was a deep, passionate kiss that made Harley’s brain fritz for a moment. His tongue slid into her mouth while his fingers slid down the sides of her neck, caressing, tickling. His mouth moved over hers and his tongue licked across her teeth before he caught her bottom lip with his teeth, barely touching, but holding her lip. 

Harley moaned. He tasted like blood, ashes and him; he tasted like her puddin. She reached up and slid her fingers through his green hair, grabbing a handful to tug him closer, hungry for his mouth, for the feel of his lips, his tongue… 

“Puddin, do we have...ah...time...for this?” she asked between kisses. 

Joker growled. “Yes, we have plenty of time sweets.” He tugged briefly on her bottom lip before he spoke. “I need you Harls.” 

Harley groaned as she found breathing was suddenly difficult. Joker’s hands snaked down her front, his fingers brushing over her already erect nipples sending warm tickling sensations all through her. He made a small growl, cupping her breasts and squeezing gently while at the same time keeping her pressed against the closet door with his body. Harley dropped her hands from his hair to his waist where she began to work the buckle of his slacks free. 

Joker chuckled softly, enjoying the desperate way her fingers moved down his front, the way she yanked his slacks open once she had the zipper down, and reached into his pants to cup and squeeze him through his boxers. He groaned at her touch, thrusting his hips just slightly against her. Harley released him so she could shove everything down, his slacks, his boxers, all dropping to his knees with one aggressive shove. 

Harley immediately grasped him once he was free of his pants, one hand wrapped around his erection, her other hand cupping him gently, squeezing his testicles. Joker moaned loudly, laying his forehead against hers. He knew he should be quieter, but her touch was so good, her hands warms, her touch a mix of firm and tender that had him wanting to howl with pleasure. Instead he grunted finding her mouth to both kiss her and muffle his groans. 

Harley squeezed him tenderly, stroking her hand along his hard length. She dragged her teeth across her bottom lip, enjoying the heat of his skin, the satin feel of his erection in her hand, hard, warm, making her groin ache with the need to feel him inside her. She licked her lips, gently squeezing his testicles, enjoyed the way he fit in the palm of her hand. She stroked his from top to bottom as her tongue caressed his lips, his chin, licking his jaw and down to his throat while she caressed him. He groaned again, thrusting against her with small jerks of his body. 

Joker moved his hands to her breasts, cupping and squeezing them through her outfit. He grinned when Harley made a soft moan as he pressed his thumbs against her nipples. He wanted so much to rip her costume away, to drag his teeth and tongue along her skin, to suck on her until she was begging for him. 

He pulled back from her and spun her around. 

Harley yelped, releasing him when he spun her around, and pressed her palms up against the door. 

Joker grabbed the zipper that ran along the back of her outfit and pulled it down, enjoying the way the metal purred as it traveled down her back. Once unzipped, he slid the fabric off her shoulders and down her arms, stripping her naked in one swift motion. That was one of the things he adored about her costume--he knew she was completely naked underneath. 

Joker kept her turned around as he ran his hands and fingers down her back, over her hips and rear, luxuriating in the feel of her soft skin, the graceful play of muscles under her silky, creaming flesh. He leaned in and brushed his lips against her shoulder then up to her ear where he caressed her sensitive ear lobe with his tongue. “You scared me tonight sweets. I don’t like being scared like that. Makes me angry.” 

Harley leaned into his attentions with a soft smile while using her feet to kick her boots off and wiggle out of her costume the rest of the way while his tongue sent goosebumps racing over her skin. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer against his body and held her there, tight against him. 

Harley leaned into him. “I’m so sorry puddin.” 

Joker brushed his nose against her skin. “It’s all right pumpkin.” 

He turned her around again, pulling her away from the closet door, lifted her up easily, his lean frame strong and capable. Harley wrapped herself around him while Joker reached down to slide his erection into her. 

With her arms wrapped around Joker’s shoulders, Harley buried her face against his neck when he thrust into her, feeling that instant of fulfillment when he pushed past her barriers to enter her. 

She groaned against his throat, one hand gliding into his thick, green hair, her fingers pressed into his scalp. “Uh! Puddin!” 

Joker groaned with her, his eyes fluttering for a moment when he felt himself surrounded with her warmth, the wetness of her holding him. He shuddered with pleasure, his arms tight around her and his legs flexing. He dropped his hands to her rear, holding her as he began to bounce her on him while bending his knees to thrust into her. 

Harley giggled with pleasure. “Uuhoh...Mistah J!” 

Joker grinned bouncing her on his erection with a deep laugh. “Mmm, uh...Harley...my sweets…” 

Harley gave him a playful growl that had his smile spreading across his face when she followed the growl by pulling him close and kissing him hard. Joker opened his mouth wider against her, sucking on her tongue while he took a step forward and pressed her against the door. His long fingered hands glided along her thighs while he thrust deep into her (the door behind her made a slight noise when their movements shifted the door in its frame). 

Their breathing was heavy, all words lost in the heady mix of sensation. Harley whimpered and any pain she had felt was forgotten, at least for the moment. She tightened her grip on Joker, her mouth moving over his, kissing his lips, his cheeks, brushing her nose against his needing to be close to him in every way possible. Her senses were filled with him, the taste of him, the sweet sounds he was making, the groans and grunts, the sounds of their flesh smacking together, the smell of him; all of it was a mixed cocktail of sensations that had her on fire. Harley groaned when he licked her neck, holding on tightly when she felt that rush of dizzying excitement, her body tensing followed by a rush of pleasure so intense that for a moment Harley was sure she blacked out for a heartbeat. 

Joker thrust into her, burying himself deeply inside Harley. He was lost in her, wrapped in her warmth, the taste of her lips, her tongue in his mouth, her skin against his skin, the way her fingernails pressed into him. For this moment, the panic and fear he had felt when he had carried her into the hospital was chased away, replaced with the intoxicating sensations of his Harley, alive, warm, and in his arms. Joker kissed her tenderly, his shaft buried deep inside her. He lifted her a little, thrusting harder, his orgasm threatening to burst from him in a knee weakening explosion. 

Joker kissed her, his tongue sliding against hers, then along her jaw. He pressed his lips to her throat at the moment she orgasmed. He grunted in response, his own climax following hers when she tightened around him. He thrust into her, her back pressed against the door, causing it to rattle when they came together. 

Joker held her, pressed against the door, his arms tight around her, his eyes closed, his nose and mouth pressed against her hair. 

Harley laid her head against his shoulder, stroking the fine hairs on the back of his neck while she struggled to find her breath again. 

Joker chuckled softly. “Mm...I needed that.” 

Harley giggled in response. “Me too puddin.” 

Joker kissed her hair, lifting her face gently, staying inside her as he caressed her cheek. “Don’t do that to me again Harley. Don’t ever scare me like that. I don’t like it.” 

Harley smiled at him, her eyes a little damp as she whispered back. “I’ll try not to puddin.” 

Joker caressed her chin with his thumb. “Good.” He smiled and kissed her, a sweet, long, deep kiss that said so much more than words. 

* 

Spread out on a shelf were all of the bottles that they had grabbed--the bleach, rust remover, rubbing alcohol, and rat poison. As Joker pondered what to craft, Harley cleaned up and slipped back into her costume. When she was done, Harley walked over and wrapped her arms around Joker’s waist, resting her chin on his shoulder, watching what he was doing. “So what now puddin?” 

Joker grinned, his smile spreading across his face. “This is where the magic begins my sweet! Daddy is going to create something special for our little piggy friends.” Joker chuckled reaching out and plucked up one of the surgical masks which he then handed to Harley. “Now put on one of these pumpkin poo.” 

Harley frowned releasing him to take the mask he handed her. “I thought you said I was immune to your toxin puddin.” She gasped. “What about Bob?” 

“Oh you are, my dear, but better safe than sorry, especially with you my sweets.” Joker pinched her cheek when he turned around and kissed the tip of her nose as well. “And I promise, Bob will be fine. He doesn’t seem to be affected by any gases or toxins.” Joker shrugged before he continued. “Now, mask up and put some rubber gloves on Harls, and let’s get to cooking.” Joker giggled as he grabbed a pair of rubber gloves, handing them to Harley before he grabbed his own, sliding them on with a quick snap of rubber against his wrists. “All right my dear, let’s make some magic!” 

* 

With the surgical mask over her nose and mouth, Harley was using one of the toilet brushes to mix some of the chemicals together that Joker had measured out using the caps from the bottles. 

He muttered as he worked. “I hate using inferior tools. It's so much better at home when I have my full lab available to me.” He sighed dramatically. “I am an artist, after all, like Walter White; I shouldn’t have to use inferior tools like this.” 

Harley smiled behind her mask and patted her puddin on the rear. “But Mistah J, it’s because you are such an artiste, a renaissance man, that you can make all this stuff work for you. You can create art with anything!” 

Joker, who was in the middle of holding his lighter (one of the many things that Joker had in his pockets, along with several other fun little things secreted on his person) under one of the bottle caps filled with a mix of two toxic ingredients, turned to look at Harley, his blue eyes wide. 

“Harls, you’re right. I am a true artiste!” Joker’s smile, which had been faltering, returned in full to spread across his face. 

Harley giggled, giving his butt a squeeze before she went back to work. 

* 

A few minutes later, Joker and Harley were slipping back into the janitor’s closet smelling slightly of the ash and smoke from their accident earlier that evening, with a mixture of burned almonds from their work in the linen closet. Joker grinned when Riddler spun round, nearly jumping a foot in the air. 

Riddler snarled, his hand held against his chest. “Fuck!” 

Joker snickered. “Hey there sunshine! Wet your tights there?” 

Riddler snarled. “You were gone more than ten minutes.” 

Joker stuck his tongue out. “Art takes time green bean. You done Crane?” 

Riddler snorted. “Yeah, sure--art.” 

Crane, who had his back to them and who hadn’t reacted at all when Joker and Harley slipped back into the room, turned around slowly, his eyes wide. His pupils were dilated in his excitement, his smile a little frightening. “Oh, I am ready.” 

Joker giggled with raised green eyebrows. “Well boys, and girl…” He winked at Harley. “Let’s go have a little fun with our wannabe villains, shall we?” 

Harley giggled. “Yeah, this is going to be fun!” 

* 

Fred and Walt were hanging back a little, leaning against a wall as far away from Pickton as they could get while Mr. Pickton paced back and forth in front of the group of hostages. He was in full villain mode, doing some crazy speech, his pig-flesh mask tucked under his arm while he paced and spoke. 

“When I am done here my friends, I shall have the money and the means to make everything in Gotham better! You’ll see! I’ll fix you all, make you better, make you perfect! Make you all like me!” Pickton snorted on a piggy sounding laugh. “That’s the goal people! That’s the endgame! And Batman, oh Batman will love me!! He’ll forget about all the other villains, the weak ones, the ones who will mean nothing to him because there will be me!! And only me!!” The snorting sounds that Pickton made became gross and unbearable to hear. 

Walt cringed leaning close and whispered at Fred. “I don’t like the sound of that. He never said that before, had he? I mean about fixing people...” 

Fred shrugged. “I’m sure he is just being metaphorical.” 

Walt frowned in confusion. “Meta-whatacal?” 

“Metaphorical, means he using a metaphor,” Fred explained in a hissed whisper. 

“What’s a metaphor?” Walt asked with eyes wide behind his pig mask. 

Fred groaned, rolling his eyes while Pickton continued. “I have so many plans! So many! Batman is going to love me and soon Gotham will go hog wild for Mr. Pickton!!” Pickton snort-laughed, throwing his one arm into the air, dancing around in a circle. Everyone’s attention was on the strange man so no one noticed the aerosol can that rolled into the room. The can rolled until it stopped against Walt’s foot. 

Walt frowned and looked down. It was an air freshener can. He reached down and picked up the can to examine it when suddenly it sprayed him right in the face with an odd yellow-colored gas that smelled slightly of rotten eggs. Walt yelped and dropped the can, his friend glancing over at him with a snarl. “Walt, shut up! You want Pickton to…” he glanced at the can that Walt dropped in confusion. It spun around dispersing a thin plume of greenish yellow gas into the air before it stopped moving. 

“What the hell…” Fred began to reach down for the can when Walt let out an ear splitting scream that stopped Pickton in the middle of his rant. 

“What is going on?!” Pickton stomped his foot. 

The moment Pickton’s foot hit the floor, a bottle flew out from a darkened hall. The hostages all yelled, scrambling out of the way and piling themselves into a corner just as the bottle hit the floor and exploded. It wasn’t a big explosion or particularly destructive, but it was startling. This was followed by several more bottles being thrown into the room to smash against the floor with explosions of varying levels of loudness and incendiary fury. Everyone began to scream or yell as several more small explosions began to go off, followed by gas as several aerosol cans rolled into the room after the explosions and began to spin while toxic gas in light purple and puke yellow streamed out of the cans (though Joker took note that a small handful of the tossed cans didn’t go off, duds, which annoyed him immensely.) 

Pickton yelled at his men. “Stop whatever that is!!” 

Pickton’s men were looking around in confusion, a small handful had begun giggling while a couple began to scream. Another few had a mixed reaction, alternating between screaming and laughing. Another few simply vomited. The doctors, nurses and patients that were being held hostage began to exhibit the same mix of symptoms as they began to stand up, cower, or a few had started to roll on the floor in fits of laughter which became more severe when anyone vomited or started screaming. A handful, however, remained unaffected. The gases were much weaker versions of what Joker or Crane would usually concoct and the area of effect was much smaller, the gas unable to rise very far from the floor before it began to dissipate. Both Joker and Crane also knew that the effects of the gas would not last very long or be permanent like their usual deadly concoctions would be, but as Joker had told them all, as a performer, you work with what you have. 

The moment that the gas was in full effect, however, Joker and Harley came rushing out from around the corner, quickly followed by Crane and the Riddler. 

Joker laughed throwing his arms in the air like a conductor or ringmaster. “Introducing!! For one night ONLY!! The Joker!! With his gorgeous lady and perfect partner in crime, Harley Quinn! Teaming up with the Scarecrow and…” Joker’s voice lost its enthusiasm. “The Riddler.” 

Riddler was wearing a strange looking hospital mask with plastic tubing and a strange grill on the front. (Crane had engineered a quick mask for him made from a variety of things they found in the janitors closet to filter out the gas and leave him unaffected. It wasn’t a perfect solution and Crane had warned him it might not last very long, but hopefully long enough for them to subdue the villains they were after.) He frowned. “Hey!” 

Walt continued to scream each time he looked at anyone. Fred grabbed his friend by the shoulders and shook him, but he had already begun to laugh, the fits of giggling coming on faster and faster until Fred was holding on to Walt to stop himself from falling to the floor in hysterics. 

Joker giggled as he surveyed the chaos. “Harley my dear, go have some fun.” 

Harley giggled. “Sure thing puddin!!” 

Pickton, his scarred face twisting with rage, yelled. “STOP THEM!!” 

Harley ran further into the room. One of the pig masked men--who was giggling faintly, but who seemed largely unaffected--looked away from his gassed companions and came at her, his gun raising, but Harley was quicker. She ran up to the man, grabbed him by the shoulder before he could aim his weapon at her and pulled him forward enough that she could bring her leg up and stomp, with a side kick, into the man’s knee. He screamed in pain as his knee emitted a loud ‘crack’ and twisted at an unnatural angle. Harley followed her attack by twisting around behind the man while grabbing his arm and threw him with all her strength against the wall. She might not have been able to do the move because she was still not quite up to her usually levels, but with the mix of gases in the air hindering Pickton’s men, Harley pulled off the maneuver. 

She flung herself backwards as another pig-faced guard came rushing at her, doing a nearly perfect backflip out of the way. She landed on her feet with a bright cheerful grin which she followed with a powerful sidekick, pivoting her body to provide more power to the kick and knocked the man’s gun out of his hand. 

This pig masked man dropped his gun while he giggled and wrung his hand in pain, but he still tried to rush Harley. She giggled and met his rush with a quick snap kick to his chin, dropping him like a sack of potatoes to the floor. 

She spun around just in time to kick another man squarely in the balls, followed with a quick, vicious hook kick to the face; a face that looked terrified she thought. (She almost felt sorry for him, but not enough not to do what she did.) 

Two more of Pickton’s men came charging toward her. One, a large beefy man whose pig mask was mostly on the top of his head, his beard looking patchy and unkempt, fired off several shots with his pistol, but he was laughing so hard that his shots all went into the ceiling or into the wall behind her, his entire body shaking with laughter. His partner, a slender, dark haired man, tried to slip up to her. He had a pair of brass knuckles on each hand. 

Harley raced toward the big man with the patchy beard whose gun now clicked empty. The bearded man giggled throwing his empty gun at her, but Harley simply jumped over it, landing next to him with a grin and a wink. She grabbed his arm, one hand on his shoulder, her nails digging into the shoulder as she adjusted her grip while she wrapped her other hand around his arm while his companion tried to hit her with a full body swing of his fist. She spun herself up, kicking the man trying to hit her in the face. Harley spun completely around the other man’s arm landing on her feet and yanked the bearded man’s head down to ram her knee into his face. She giggled when she heard a howl of pain mixed with his giggles. 

“Hey bitch!” 

She spun around to see one of Pickton’s men, a large man with beady eyes, clearly one of the very few unaffected by the gas, but she only saw him for a split second before he hit her across the face, his knuckles slamming into her cheek with enough force that he cut her. Harley’s head whipped to the side as she gasped in shock, feeling the wetness of fresh blood on her face mixed with the blast of pain across her cheek. The beady-eyed man hit her again before she could recover, this time in the stomach, nearly knocking the air from her before getting another strike in on her face before Harley could get her arms up to block him. 

She gasped again in pain and rose up, barely having time to block the beady-eyed jerk’s next strike. Harley used both her hands to deflect his fist, shoving it down at the same time. He yanked his fist away and tried again, but now Harley was ready for him. She grabbed his arm, keeping it locked in her grip, twisted her body around and forced him down, his arm making a very loud, and--as far as Harley was concerned--very satisfying crush followed by the man’s cry of pain. 

More of Pickton’s men were already recovering from the initial gas attack just moments earlier. Another hurried over to help his fellow, coming up behind Harley while she still held her opponent's now broken arm, though she simply kicked backwards, her leg going back high enough to catch this masked man in the face just as she dropped the beady-eyed man. 

She frowned when she saw a couple of more men coming toward her. 

Harley sighed. “Damn it. Are you guys stupid or something?” 

* 

Crane smiled though he had a few men surrounding him. He could tell by the state of their pupils that at least a couple were under the influence of his gas and the best part was about to happen. He knew these big, strong men would underestimate him because he slender, wore glasses and did not look like a fighter. They were about to find out exactly how wrong they were. One of the men, a sandy haired blond with rippling muscles came at him at the same time a hulking man with a long black ponytail did the same. The other two stood back, fear clear in their eyes behind their masks. 

Crane smiled. “You sir, need a lesson in manners.” Crane brought his hands up at the ready, fists held a little loose and his stance sideways to his opponents. “I should warn you both, I am trained in Crane style.” He chuckled slightly at his own joke. 

The hulk of a man laughed behind his pig mask. “Sure you are.” 

Crane moved so quickly that the hulk didn’t have time to react before Crane had slid close to him. Crane quickly slapped the hulk’s wrist down and punched him in the face followed by a swift chop with the side of his hand to the hulking man’s neck. The hulk crumbled at Crane’s feet without uttering another word. 

Crane smiled turning to the blond. (The other two gang members looked terrified, the fear toxin working through their system made both men see Crane as some otherworldly creature. They both took a step back, only just barely keeping themselves from running away.) The muscled blond brought his weapon up, taking aim at Crane. Pickton’s man’s hand shook slightly after seeing his friend drop so easily. He wasn’t as sure of himself as he had been only a few seconds ago. 

Crane smiled, a little bit of cockiness leaking into his voice along with motioning at the man with his fingers. “Shall we?” 

The man bared his teeth in defiance and fired his weapon. Despite the close distance between him and the doctor; Crane’s thin frame moved surprisingly quick and gracefully out of the way. (Crane was good at reading people and the man’s eyelids twitched just before he pulled the trigger, but it was enough to allow the psychiatrist to anticipate the attack and move.) The bullets ripped through some hospital curtains and into the wall. Crane raced forward, turing to the side slightly and kicked. The first kick landed between the man’s legs, smacking against the man’s thigh, but not before the point of Crane’s shoe cut across the blond gang member’s testicles. Just as the blond grunted in pain, his gun arm dropping down, Crane’s second kick took the blond in the face, snapping his head violently to the side. Crane hopped to his right foot to bring his left foot up for a quick hook kick that caught the gunman on the side of the head, slapping against his ear with enough force that he was flung to the side and into another set of hospital curtains and finally, to the floor. 

Crane smiled, hopping on his toes a bit, his fists up as he turned toward the other two, now even more terrified men. “So, would you gentlemen like a lesson in manners as well?” 

* 

Riddler hurried over to the hostages who were practically piled on top of each in a corner of the room watching the violence with wide eyes. Riddler’s voice sounded muffled and slightly tinny from behind his rigged mask. “Come on follow me!” 

Riddler motioned with his hands trying to get their attention without drawing the gaze of Pickton or any of his remaining men. Some of the hostages looked too scared to move while a few of them clearly had a bad case of the giggles. Those who remained unaffected grabbed the hands of the others and began to drag them along, following Riddler out of the main room toward the emergency exit and out of the hospital. Riddler was fine with not engaging in combat. Let Joker, Harley and Crane take care of the physical part of the plan (though watching Crane fight had been illuminating. Riddler hadn’t realized that Scarecrow could actually fight, a little tidbit of information he would have to file away for the future). 

He frowned when he saw Bob, who was still mostly out of commission. The big man’s eyes were open, but he seemed groggy. Like everyone else, Riddler had a soft spot for the big guy, just as he had a soft spot for Harley, despite her terrible taste in men. 

Riddler sighed reaching down to take Bob’s hand. “Come on big guy, let’s go wait outside for the others.” 

Bob frowned furrowing his brow and pointed. Riddler turned to see Joker and Harley. Riddler smiled. “Trust me Bob, they are going to be all right, but if I let anything happen to you, Harley will never forgive me. So come on, you can help me herd the hospital staff outside.” 

Bob didn’t look happy, and for a moment, Riddler was sure that Bob was going to race to Harley’s and Joker’s aid, but then the big guy nodded and came with Riddler. Riddler sighed with relief. 

He glanced back once before he herded everyone down the hall and out the exit. 

* 

Joker strolled into the room, wading through the chaos, his sights only on one person--Pickton. Not only had Pickton been too big for his britches, thinking he could come in here, into this hospital which all criminals in Gotham knew was a sacred space, and tried to rob it, but the ugly son-of-a-bitch had the nerve to think he would be one of Batman’s playmates? Joker pressed his lips together in a thin smile. But the man’s worst offense by far was his touching Harley. No one touched Harley but Joker. 

Pickton was yelling at his men (the gas seemed to have not affected him at all, which annoyed Joker. Now, if he had his full lab, he could have come up with something truly awful to give Mr. Pickton, Joker thought but, he would simply have to settle for some good old fashioned fisticuffs). 

Joker yelled. “Hey ugly!!” 

Pickton turned, his beady black eyes wild with anger. The man hissed, spittle flying from his lips. “YOU!” 

Joker bowed with a laugh. “Yes, me Porky. Now, I think you and I have a score to settle. You see, you didn’t just come in here and think you could score big by robbing the one place in Gotham that we all know not to rob. I mean really, a hospital for criminals? Have you no respect, no…” 

Pickton held his gun up and snarled. “Shut up clown!” 

Joker gave Pickton a slow blink. “AND you are particularly disrespectful to your elders. Do you really think you can just show up in Gotham with that ugly face of yours..I mean really, have you looked in a mirror? Geez…” Joker shuddered dramatically. “You must have been born on a highway because that's where most accidents happen.” Joker chuckled at his joke. “Some babies were dropped on their heads, but you were clearly thrown at a wall!” He laughed again. 

Pickton snarled. “I’m going to kill you!” 

Joker put up a finger moving it back and forth while strolling closer. “No my darling, correction--you are going to try.” 

Pickton shot at Joker, but the Joker moved quickly, his thin body graceful and wiry. Joker dodged to the side before rushing up right into Pickton’s face. Joker grinned, the smile broad and wicked, his blue eyes glowing with menace at the same time that he snapped his fist out to smash the man’s nose with one brutal punch. 

Pickton roared, blood gushing from his now broken nose, covering the lower half of his face in blood. He threw a punch which caught Joker in the nose. Joker’s grin didn’t fade even as blood dripped down over his lips from his nose. 

He winked at Pickton. “Oh my love, you are going to have to do so much better than that. I’ve been beaten by the best, you know.” 

Joker laughed and swung with his elbow, which he slammed against the side of Pickton’s head, followed by Joker kicking the inside of the man’s left thigh, nearly knocking his leg out from under him. Before he dropped his foot back to the floor, Joker gave his opponent a brutal one two punch to the side of face. Joker’s grin never wavered. 

Pickton hissed in pain, but returned with a hit to Joker’s chest, his fist slamming right in Joker’s diaphragm, forcing the air out of his lungs in a rush. Joker grunted with the blow, and then Pickton surprised Joker as he stepped forward and picked the thinner man up; the malformed gang leader threw Joker to the floor. The big, ugly man dropped down to straddle Joker, wrapping his hands around the clown’s throat and started to choke him. 

“I WILL BE BATMAN’S GREATEST NEMESIS!! YOU’LL SEE!! HE WILL LOVE ME!!” Pickton growled and snorted like a pig at the same time. 

Joker, barely able to breathe, still laughed, though his voice was strained. “You have diarrhea of the mouth; constipation of the ideas. You’ll never be more than a petty annoyance to Batman. You’ll never be one of the great ones Piggy!” 

Pickton snarled, his eyes widening with madness as he continued to press down on Joker’s throat when suddenly Harley was on his back with a scream. “GET OFF MY PUDDIN! YOU FUCKHEAD!!” Harley wrapped one arm around Pickton’s throat and with her other hand she grabbed the side of his mouth, her fingers prying and pulling to rip his cheek off. Pickton was forced to release Joker as he struggled with the new threat. He threw his elbow back, catching Harley in the face, bloodying her lip and knocked her off his back. She stumbled on her feet for a second, but Pickton kicked her hard in the chest, sending Harley flying backwards a couple of steps. 

He turned back to Joker only to have Joker--now back on his feet-- kick him in the stomach. Pickton stumbled backwards, though he kept his footing and then charged at Joker, his bloody teeth bared. He took a couple of quick swings at Joker who blocked one, the other breaking through his defense to smash Joker in the chin. Joker grabbed the man’s next punch, wrapping his hands around Pickton’s arm and threw the man against the wall face first. 

Pickton twisted in Joker’s grasp until he was facing the clown again, punching Joker in the mouth with several quick strikes, splitting his lip while the two men continued to struggle, twisting around, their arms locked in a strange, violent dance. 

Joker laughed. “Are you always this stupid or is today a special occasion?” 

Pickton glared. “I’m going to kill you clown.” 

Joker smiled. “Oh, I don’t think today is your day Piggy.” Joker motioned with his eyebrows over Pickton’s shoulder. The man turned... 

That was the moment that Harley, having pulled a fire extinguisher from the wall, slammed the end of the metal canister into Pickton’s face with all her strength. Joker let go of the bigger man and Pickton fell to the floor, laying on his back, his eyes having that glassy glaze of the dazed. 

Harley stood over him, a wicked grin on her pretty, yet bloody face. 

“No one touches my puddin but me pork face.” With that, Harley brought the fire extinguisher down on Pickton’s face; then again and again, creating a bloody, goopy mess. Harley grinned, pulled the pin, and finished by spraying a stream of extinguish foam onto the bloody remains of Pickton’s face. 

Joker laughed while he watched her, giggling until he was bending over, his hands on his knees. “Oh Harley, pumpkin, my dear girl, you are a delight!” 

Harley tossed the fire extinguisher aside, and with a high pitched squeak of delight, she ran into Joker’s waiting arms. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight and rocking back and forth slightly as he held her close, nuzzling his face between her neck and shoulder. He smiled looking up to see Crane, tying up a few of the downed henchman. Crane glanced over to Joker and smiled. 

“Do you care if I take a few of these home with me for my experiments?” 

Joker shook his head. “Be my guest Scarecrow, be my guest. But transporting them is your problem.” 

Crane smiled and nodded before continuing to tie up his latest human test subjects. 

Joker hugged Harley tightly again. “Mm...my sweets,” he murmured. “I say our work here is done. Time to get Bob and go home.” 

Harley sighed happily, laying her head against his shoulder as fatigue hit her hard; her entire body felt ready to collapse. “Yeah, I don’t like coming to the hospital and leaving feeling worse than when we arrived.” 

Joker nodded. “It’s bad service I say.” He sighed and the two of them turned to leave when Joker suddenly grabbed her by her upper arm and yanked her closer. Harley, startled, nearly stumbled over her own feet as Joker lifted her up, surprising her as he pulled her up into his arms in a bridal carry. Harley squeaked and giggled with delight. “Puddin!” 

Joker grinned. “Well, my girl beat a man for me, so I think that deserves a little extra TLC, don’t you sweets?” 

Harley giggled happily and nuzzled his cheek. “Oh puddin, I love you!” 

Joker smiled contentedly as he walked out of the hospital carrying her. “I love you too, my little murderous kitten.” 

Harley giggled kissing his ear. 

Joker simply grinned happily, feeling better than he had in a long time.


End file.
